


Breaking at the Seams

by Trenchcoat_Impala



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18 fix it, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergent, Case Fic, Fake Dating, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, NSFW, Sex, Top!Cas, Witches, anal penetration, at least that's what i'm calling it, bottom!Dean, explicit - Freeform, fake husbands, fake realtionships, implied car sex, mention of drowning, mention of suicide, post 15x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 23:34:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30063264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trenchcoat_Impala/pseuds/Trenchcoat_Impala
Summary: Cas is back from the empty, but everything is far from back to normal. Dean and Cas haven't spoken to each other about what happened before Cas was taken and Dean is too scared to broach the topic. So he's taken to ignoring Cas, and refusing to be in the same room as him without Sam present.When Sam gives Dean and Cas a case where they have to pretend to be a couple, Dean and Cas are forced from the bunker and into a neighborhood where they have to pretend to be madly in love. Except there's no pretending for either of them, and it's only a matter of time before one of them breaks.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 138





	Breaking at the Seams

Dean hated it and simultaneously  _ didn’t  _ hate it. 

He hated that Sam had forced the case at him and Cas without any room for arguing and then subsequently left them to deal with it while he ran off with Eileen on a different case. He hated that the case involved infiltrating a neighborhood with identical houses and perfectly trimmed lawns that were somehow so green they were  _ too  _ green. He hated that there was only one logical course of action that would allow them to slip into said neighborhood, and that brought about what Dean couldn’t entirely hate yet still hated, but for completely different reasons. 

He and Cas would have to pretend to be some manner of couple. 

Getting Cas back from the empty had been no easy feat. There was a lot of red tape they had to cross and far too many nights were spent half dozing on top of lore book after lore book. In those moments, Dean had hoped that falling asleep over a book would actually allow him to retain all the knowledge from its pages without having to read them. That was not, however, the case. After a few months, they did manage to free Cas, but at the cost of his angelic grace, leaving Cas human. Again.

Cas had adjusted after a few weeks, slipping back into the feelings he’d once experienced, remembering to eat and drink, but most of all to sleep and take care of his personal hygiene. Cas was particularly happy to be able to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again and Dean couldn’t help but smile when he thought about how content Cas looked as he hummed around his sandwiches.

What they hadn’t discussed, in the month and a half that Cas had now been back for, were the circumstances of his leaving. Dean didn’t know how to broach the topic, everytime he thought about it his heart would jump into his throat and his mouth would run dry, and when Cas looked over at him, something hidden just behind the forefront of his eyes, Dean would hastily drop eye contact, unable to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds-- a stark contrast to their old ways.

Yeah, sure, Dean hadn’t said anything, but Cas hadn’t said anything either. 

Cas dropped the whole ‘I love you’ thing and then let a cosmic entity swallow him up. For all Dean knew, now that Cas was human, he didn’t feel the same way anymore. How did angels even grasp a concept like love? Everything must feel so different to them. If Cas had changed his mind then Dean didn’t want to be the one to bring it up and end up hurting them both in the process.

In light of that, Dean had gotten very good at avoiding Cas when Sam wasn’t in the room with them. If Cas was alone in the kitchen, Dean was quick to keep walking past it. If they stopped at a gas station, Dean was the one who went inside to get the snacks. It started to become like a dance, they moved around each other in circles, always keeping space between them and leaving words unsaid. 

Sam was fed up with it. He’d made that very clear one morning over breakfast. Dean had been sipping at his coffee while he watched Sam push the remains of a spinach and pepper egg white omelette around his plate. It was in that moment that Sam had snapped, his fork clattering against his plate as he dropped it with an exasperated sigh. 

“You’ve got to talk to him.” 

Dean raised one shoulder in a half-shrug, attempting for casualty. “We talk.” 

“Outside of cases,” Sam clarified. 

“No,” Dean said, finality in his tone. 

Sam pulled one of his signature bitch faces. “Did you guys have a fight or something?” 

“Nope,” Dean replied, suddenly becoming very interested in the rim of his coffee cup and the drip of dark liquid that was sliding down the side of it. Dean stopped it with his thumb and brought it to his mouth, clearing it away with a swipe of his tongue and a  _ pop _ . 

“Then,  _ what _ ?!” Sam spat in frustration. When Dean didn’t say anything Sam sighed again. “You spent weeks trying to free him from the empty, practically ran yourself into the ground, and now that he’s back you’ve barely exchanged more than five words with him in one sitting.” Dean kept his mouth firmly shut, unwilling to offer an explanation and Sam let out a groan. “I’m tired of you guys walking on eggshells around each other. So spill, what is going on between you two?” 

“Nothing.” Dean’s answer was too quick and he knew Sam noticed. 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Sam muttered as he picked up his fork to poke at his discarded omelette. 

“Good talk,” Dean said as he stood up, deciding that vacating the kitchen was his best course of action. Discussing what was and wasn’t between him and Cas with his brother was not exactly how he wanted to spend his morning. 

Dean knew tossing this case at him was Sam’s way of revenge for a month and a half of awkward silences and stolen glances. Honestly, he should have seen it coming. There’s only so much Sam is willing to take and, with the tensions between Dean and Cas skyrocketing every time Cas walked into a room and vice versa, it must have gotten to be too much. 

Sam had set it all up perfectly, originally intending for it to be him and Eileen who worked the case, or so he said. The house was already rented, they had jobs that they could pretend to go to during the day, but then Sam had suddenly found a case that looked like a nest of vampires and he and Eileen had left this hunt for Dean and Cas.

A thought crossed Dean’s mind that he only briefly entertained. It would be easy enough to pass the case onto another pair of hunters and then Dean could get out of this awkward situation with nary a scratch. But then the part of Dean that hated and  _ didn’t  _ hate the prospect of pretending to be a couple with Cas, spoke up in that tiny little voice that kicked around in the back of his head and deterred him from calling up Jody or Garth. 

That’s how Dean found himself loading up the Impala with gear and freshly bought domestic clothing, that Dean just  _ knew  _ was going to itch. He still hadn’t talked to Cas about what their plans were, he’d only knocked on his door this morning (happy for the buffer of wood between him and Cas) to tell him they were leaving in about an hour. Cas had grunted in response and since then Dean had been busy stocking up on everything they needed. 

Dean was counting through a mental checklist, muttering to himself as he went, when Cas walked into the garage. He was dressed in his signature suit and trench coat and only the slight flick of his eyes at his entrance was all he gave Cas to know he’d seen him. 

“Do you have everything?” Cas asked. Dean nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, it had been so long since he’d heard him speak without Sam occupying a chair opposite him in the library. 

“Uh, yeah, I think so.” 

“Where is this case again?” 

“Rocheport, Missouri,” Dean answered. He slammed the trunk and then paused when he saw that Cas hadn’t moved. “You gonna get in or what?” Cas seemed to stir to life and he moved to the passenger side of the car, leaving the driver’s side open for Dean to enter. 

When he slid into the driver’s seat he suddenly realized just how close he and Cas would be sitting. They hadn’t been this close since… well, since Cas had confessed his love to the backdrop of Billie’s pounding fist on the door. Dean tried not to think about their proximity as he started up the car and pulled out of the garage. They had a six hour drive ahead of them and Dean sighed internally, it was going to be a long drive. 

Awkward wasn’t the word Dean would use to describe the first hour of the drive. What was happening between him and Cas was far off the realm of ‘awkward’. Being stuck next to someone that you were once so close with, could easily make conversation about pretty much anything with, and then suddenly not being able to even say a word, was more in the territory of torment. The air was so charged between them that Dean was almost afraid to move for fear of being electrocuted. 

Dean played his music and occasionally sang along, off key as usual, but after the second hour started to rear its head, Dean didn’t have the energy to pretend like this was a normal roadtrip to a case. Cas hadn’t said a word, he’d hardly looked in Dean’s direction, and Dean wasn’t in any hurry to talk to him either. 

When they made a gas stop, Cas went to use the bathroom leaving Dean to fill up the tank. Dean sighed, leaning against the trunk as he waited for the machine’s telltale  _ thunk  _ that would announce the car was full. He was about to spend God knows how long with Cas, pretending to be in a domestic relationship and they couldn’t even speak a word to each other. 

This was going to go  _ great _ . 

When Cas returned, Dean was just putting the pump back and he quickly paid before going to deal with his own full bladder, and when he came back they were off again.

As Dean drove, Cas pointedly ignored him and Dean quietly hummed to his music. When hour four approached Dean thought of breaking the silence, of bringing up ‘ _ The’ _ subject, but then his mouth failed him and his brain seemed to shut down, so the silence remained undisturbed. 

It was when hour five began that Dean knew he had to say something. He cleared his throat, hands tightening on the Impala’s wheel. “Uh, so, did Sam tell you the plan?” 

Dean felt Cas’s eyes turn to him, the piercing blue stabbing into his body, making the hairs along his arm and the back of his neck stand up. Since becoming human they’d lost some of their intensity, but they still held a fierce cold fire that Dean was careful not to entice. 

“Not in depth,” Cas replied stiffly. 

“Right.” Dean cleared his throat again, trying to knock up the courage to speak again. “So, uh, we’re supposed to be married and our last name is Winthrop. The house we’re renting is also on the market and so we’re staying there to see if we want to buy. We’re both accountants and we met at the office, and uh, I think that’s it.” 

“Thank you,” Cas replied, his voice cold. 

“Yeah,” Dean mumbled, not nearly loud enough for Cas to hear over the rumble of the engine. 

They stopped just outside of the town that would be their home for a few... days? Weeks? Months? They changed into the clothing that was typically associated with domestic life. That meant a white sweater for Dean with khaki pants and loafers. Cas wore black pants and a dark blue sweater. Last of all, they both slipped on the cheap wedding rings Sam had procured for them and then climbed back in the car to drive to their new home.

Dean hoped it wouldn’t take them too long to find whatever was terrorizing the people of Rocheport, but they didn’t know much about the case. There had been one death in the neighborhood that was ruled as a suicide but Dean had a feeling it was something supernatural, possibly witches. 

When they pulled down their new road, Boone street, they were greeted with house after house that was painted identically, with the same perfectly manicured lawns. Dean suppressed the urge to throw up at how domestic it all was, and kept his eyes peeled for their new abode. They were number 37, and when Dean finally turned into the driveway, the sun was only an hour shy of setting. 

Dean spotted one of their new neighbors who was putting out the trash, in the rearview mirror. She paused to look at them and Dean looked over at Cas. 

“Guess we’re going to have to start acting sooner than we thought.”

“Guess so,” Cas mumbled out, his tone sharp. 

Dean plastered a smile onto his face and pushed open the door, waving to the lady across the street. “Hi!”

“Hello!” she called back, smiling. 

“I’m Dean,” he introduced himself. 

“Jenny,” she replied. “Nice to meet you.” 

The Impala door squeaked and Cas stepped out, squinting in the setting sun. “This is Cas,” Dean only hesitated for a second before completing the rest of his sentence, “my husband.” 

Jenny’s demeanor shifted slightly and she nodded. “Oh.” 

“Is that an issue?” Cas asked, his deep voice rumbling through the air. 

Jenny shook her head vehemently, even across the street Dean could see that she was slightly panicked at the mere idea of Cas insinuating that she wasn’t accepting. “No of course not, sorry. It’s just that there’s never been… well, anyone… like  _ that _ in this neighborhood.” 

“You mean gay,” Cas said icily, his tone was all bitterness. Dean hadn’t heard Cas sound so affronted in a long time and Dean looked at him over the roof of the car. 

Jenny seemed a little stunned by Cas’s bluntness. “Um, yes, I suppose that’s the term I was looking for.” She cleared her throat and then waved awkwardly. “Well, have a good evening. Welcome to the neighborhood.” 

Dean watched her retreating back, her steps were caught just on the underside of hasty, probably trying not to seem like she wanted to run back inside. Cas had already moved to the trunk and was waiting for Dean to unlock it so they could gather their meager possessions. When he opened it, they each grabbed their duffles before heading inside.

The house was about what Dean expected. The place was spotless and smelled strongly of lemon cleaning products. The furniture was clean and simple and the kitchen was relatively large which Dean couldn’t help smiling at. 

“I should do a shopping run,” Dean said as he opened the empty fridge then closed it. 

“Yes,” Cas agreed. 

They explored the rest of the house, located the bathroom, one downstairs and one upstairs as well as one in the master suite. The upstairs housed four bedrooms and Dean paused by the door to the master bedroom. 

“So uh, what room do you want?” 

In answer, Cas disappeared into the bedroom farthest down the hall and Dean sighed and entered the master bedroom. He put his things down and then shouted to Cas that he was going shopping. This was going to be torture. 

****

The next morning, Dean fried up some eggs and was just transferring them onto a plate when Cas’s footsteps sounded from the stairs. “Morning, sunshine,” Dean greeted him stiffly. “There’s coffee if you want it.” 

Cas grunted in reply and made his way to the coffee machine. Dean made Cas up a plate of eggs too and then set both plates down on the kitchen island. Cas joined him at the counter, coffee mug raised to his lips as steam pooled in front of his face. 

Dean tried not to think about how adorably grumpy Cas was in the mornings. His hair stuck up in about twelve different places, his eyes were still glassy with sleep, and his mouth was turned into a frown that only disappeared after his second cup of coffee. 

“I hate being up this early,” Cas grumbled. 

“Well, we have to pretend we’re going to our jobs,” Dean replied. 

Cas rolled his eyes. “I know.” 

Breakfast went by in silence and then they went their separate ways to get dressed, Cas in his usual suit and Dean in one of the suits he usually reserved for when he was pretending to be the FBI (which would come in handy today).

“I figured we could hit up the library!” Dean shouted down the hallway. “See if there’s been any similar deaths around here in the last decade or so.” 

“Sounds good,” Cas replied. 

When Dean had finished securing his tie around his neck, he met Cas at the top of the stairs and they headed down together and out into the car. 

The morning was quiet. Some of their neighbors appeared to be up but other houses were silent, still asleep. Dean couldn’t help being glad that no one was around to see them, the less prying eyes, the better. 

The drive was filled with no sounds other than the occasional shift against leather and click of the turn signal. When they reached the library, they split up, Cas heading towards the stacks and Dean to the front desk to ask for old records. 

“Hi,” Dean greeted the woman behind the desk. 

“Good morning,” she replied as she eyed him carefully. 

Dean pulled his FBI badge from his pocket and flipped it open for her to see. “I’m going to need all the death records for the past ten to twenty years.” 

The librarian narrowed her eyes. “Am I allowed to ask why?” 

Dean shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, that’s classified.” 

With one last look of suspicion thrown Dean’s way, she moved off into the back room and emerged a minute later with a tall blond boy in tow. They each set down a box. “Is that all you’ll be needing, agent?” 

“I think so, thank you.” Dean picked up one box and carried it over to an empty table before going back for the second one. 

And so began Dean’s least favorite part of being a hunter: research. 

Dean thumbed through file after file, passing over people who clearly died of old age or car accidents. There was one murder recorded from 2012 but the wife had been prosecuted and imprisoned for it and from all the evidence Dean could gather, it looked like she had been the culprit. 

After about an hour, Dean’s eyes were starting to cross and he’d come across nothing that remotely resembled the death of Carlina Henson of 49 Boone Street, so he decided to take a break and see if Cas had come up with anything. He stifled a yawn as he made his way down into the stacks to scour the tables for familiar dark hair. 

Dean found Cas hunched over a lore book and he plopped down next to him. “How’s it coming along down here?” 

Cas barely acknowledged his presence, turning a page in his book and scanning the words on it as he spoke. “Slow.” 

“I got bupkis upstairs,” Dean said as he tugged a lore book towards himself and started idly flipping through it. 

“Are we sure this is a case?” Cas asked after a moment, a frown tugging the corners of his lips down. 

“Sam seems to think it is, and the lady did drown on dry land, that’s definitely not normal.” 

“That’s true,” Cas agreed. 

“I think we’re looking for a witch.” 

“That makes the most logical sense.” 

“So what do you say we question the neighbors?” 

“We could host a party of some sort,” Cas suggested. 

“Like a get to know you kind of thing?” Dean hummed in thought as Cas nodded. “That could work.” 

Dean left Cas to return the books in front of him to the shelves and he went back upstairs to give the librarian the records back. When Cas joined him, they headed out of the building and then went to grab some lunch, still having to fill the illusion that they were working class citizens. 

They stopped at a sandwich shop and Dean got a roast beef sub while Cas got a BLT. As they sat down with their food Dean pulled his phone from his pocket to check in with Sam. 

He had one missed text from his brother that read:  **_Vamp nest is handled, how are things on your end?_ **

Dean shot back a quick text saying they had nothing yet but were working on it and help with research wouldn’t be unwelcome. Sam shot him a thumbs up emoji and Dean rolled his eyes and shoved his phone back in his pocket before taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

“So,” he mumbled around it. “We just gonna go knock on doors and invite people over?” 

“Yes,” Cas replied. 

Dean paused and swallowed down his sandwich with a sip of root beer. “You do realize we’re going to have to act like a couple right? You can’t be all…” Dean waved his hand at Cas vaguely gesturing to his posture, “stiff.”

“Stiff?” Cas retorted as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. 

“Yeah,” Dean replied as he buried his face back in his food. He took his time chewing, buying time under Cas’s gaze. He sighed and put his elbows up on the table. “You’ve been kind of distant this past month and I know adjusting to being,” Dean lowered his voice, “human, again, is hard. But you’ve gotta act like you weren’t an angel once, okay?” 

“I wasn’t aware I was acting in a particular way,” Cas said, affronted. 

Dean sighed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, frustrated. “You’re acting like you, that’s not what I meant.” 

“Then what did you mean?” 

“Look,” Dean leaned forward, shifting against the edge of his seat, “you’ve never been in a relationship before, right?”

“Correct,” Cas agreed. 

“Well, there’s things that you have to do when you’re with someone, like we’re supposed to be-” 

“You mean hand holding and things,” Cas said, starting to catch on. 

Dean nodded in relief. “Yeah. That kind of stuff. We’re going to have to up our game if we want to be convincing. Which means, you’ve gotta relax.” 

“I think I can do that.” 

“Good.”

****

That night, Dean grilled up some burgers and their neighbors arrived one by one. Jenny came first with a box of cookies, clearly trying to apologize for their awkward first meeting. They met Sheila and Alan from number 44, Jeff and Carey from 34, Lily and John from 35, and Scott and Barabra from 42. 

“Thanks for coming,” Dean said with a smile as he shook Scott’s hand and showed him into the living room. 

“We’re always happy to meet new people,” Barbara piped up from beside her husband. 

“I should introduce you to my husband then,” Dean said as he scanned the room for Cas and found him at the kitchen counter. “Hey, babe!” he shouted. Cas’s head swiveled towards Dean and when he saw him he smiled and extracted himself from where he’d been opening a bag of water bottles. “Come on over here.” Cas came over easily and Dean reached out a hand to slide it around his waist. 

“Hello,” Cas said in greeting. 

“Babe, this is Barbara and her husband Scott.” 

“Nice to meet you, my name is Castiel.” 

“Castiel,” Barbara said thoughtfully. “What an interesting name.” 

“It’s from the Bible,” Dean explained. “It means angel of Thursday. Most people just call him Cas, though.”

Barbara let out a small laugh and Scott smiled. “Have you two been together long?” Scott asked. 

Dean glanced over at Cas with a soft smile. “We’ve been married for five years, but we’ve known each other for twelve.” 

“Oh how sweet,” Barbara exclaimed. 

Dean’s eyes dipped to Cas’s lips, and he had to remind himself that he’s allowed to look, just this once. They’re playing a part and looking at his ‘husband’s’ lips was definitely something he could do. “Cas is everything to me,” Dean said, and he meant it. 

Cas blinked at Dean, an emotion Dean couldn’t name crossing his face. “Likewise,” Cas said as his arm tightened around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer. 

Dean risked dropping a kiss to Cas’s cheek before extracting himself from his ‘husband’. “I’m gonna check on the pie in the oven.”

Once free of Cas’s grip, Dean let himself breathe. It was funny, really. How easy they could slip into pretending to be head over heels for each other. There wasn’t much pretending on Dean’s part, and sometimes the way Cas looked at him made him wonder if maybe there wasn’t any on Cas’s either. 

He shook himself, trying to get his mind back on the task at hand. Every single person here was a suspect. The goal was to become friends with each couple and eventually get invited over to their houses for cards or dinner, which would allow them to search the houses for anything strange. 

Dean scanned the faces of every neighbor, but the problem with witches, is that they look just like ordinary people. With vampires, the eyes are usually a little sunken, the skin paler than normal. With werewolves there’s a ferocity hidden in the depths of their irises and it's usually accompanied by a short temper. With shifters, the skin is often shiny if you look close enough, and the eyes obviously change when caught on tape. Every monster Dean’s ever hunted has some kind of tell outside of their species, but with witches, everything was ten times harder. Some witches liked to flaunt their magic, making them easily identifiable, but not everyone wields magic that way, and whatever witch was at work here was blending into the life of a civilian, that was if it even  _ is  _ a witch. 

Dean sighed as he pulled the pie from the oven and set it to cool before pulling a beer from the fridge. He was just tossing the cap into the trash when someone sidled up beside him. 

“So, you two are renting this place?” Dean turned to see Alan, a man with dark brown hair and equally dark eyes. He was dressed in a modest polo shirt and khaki pants and he too was holding a beer in hand.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean replied. “We’re just not sure if we want to buy yet, but the neighborhood seems nice.” 

“Oh it’s wonderful,” Alan said, raising his beer to his lips to drink. 

“Do you have children?” Dean asked.

Alan nodded. “Two boys. They’re a handful but we love ‘em.” 

“How old?”

“Tony is twelve and Issac is ten.” 

“Cas and I are thinking of adopting, so I was just wondering about the school system.” 

“It’s adequate,” Alan replied. 

Dean arched an eyebrow. “Only adequate?” 

Alan sighed and set his beer on the counter. “The education is great, don’t get me wrong. The boys are learning their subjects well, it’s just the other kids.” 

“Bullies?” Dean guessed. 

“Unfortunately, and the school refuses to do anything about it.”

“That’s not right.” 

“If you are planning to adopt and live in this neighborhood, I suggest looking into schools in a different town.” 

“Duly noted.” 

There was a knock on the door and Dean moved to answer it leaving Alan alone. Cas met him at the door and Dean tugged it open to reveal someone Dean had only seen in news articles: George Henson, Carlina’s husband. 

“Hi,” Dean greeted. 

“Hi,” George replied. 

“Come on in.” Dean and Cas stepped aside so he could enter. 

“Thank you, I’m sorry I’m late.” 

“Don’t worry about it, there’s still burgers on the counter and beer in the fridge, help yourself,” Dean said. 

Dean watched George mingle with the other neighbors, some of them welcoming him with a hug, others with a handshake. Dean knew they couldn’t bring up his dead wife here, not after they just met, they had to work up to it. 

Their little get-together raged on, Dean grilled up more burgers, they put on a gameshow and tried to guess the answers before the contestants, and when everyone finally left, Dean collapsed on the couch beside Cas with a sigh. 

Dean had hosted similar get-togethers with neighbors and friends when he and Lisa had been together, but he’d forgotten how exhausting it was putting up a front and pretending to be engaged in everyone’s lives. They did learn that Carlina (or Carli as George called her) hadn’t been the least bit depressed or suicidal, her death had come completely out of left field. George had found her in the bathtub, drowned, and had no idea why she’d do such a thing. George suspected foul play, but the police were content to leave it as a suicide to avoid any further paperwork or investigations. Dean and Cas, however, were determined to get to the bottom of whatever killed Carli.

With a yawn, Dean stood up. “I think I’m gonna hit the hay.” 

“Goodnight,” Cas said as Dean turned to go. He was halfway up the stairs when Cas suddenly shouted, “Dean, wait!” 

Dean froze and turned around to see Cas at the bottom of the stairs. “What?” 

Cas sighed and shifted on his feet. “How long are we going to have to do this?” 

“Until the case is over,” Dean replied. “You know that.”

Cas shook his head. “No, not that.” Cas gestured between them, exasperated. “How long are we going to have to do  _ this _ ? How long are you going to keep me at arms length?” 

Dean gripped the railing and took a step downstairs, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest so loudly he was almost certain Cas could hear it. “What do you mean?” he asked carefully. 

Cas heaved a frustrated sigh. “Dean, I laid everything out to you before…before the empty took me. I told you how I felt - and I’m not saying I expected reciprocation from you, but I expected… I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t this. You’re ignoring me. You can hardly stand being in the same room as me, and I know pretending to be a couple must be torture for you, your once-angel-turned-human, best friend, that you know has feelings for you that you don’t share-” 

Dean didn’t know how he ended up at the bottom of the stairs, but somehow he got there because before Cas could finish his rambling, Dean had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a bruising kiss. Cas nearly yelped in surprise, but he caught onto the program soon enough, kissing Dean back with matched ferocity. 

They were both breathing heavily when they pulled apart. “Cas,” Dean choked out, emotion clouding his voice. “You have no idea how much I wanted to tell you I loved you the second I saw you again.” 

“You did?” Cas asked in a whisper. 

“Yeah, ‘course I did.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and forced himself to keep eye contact with Cas. “But you were human. I didn’t know if you still felt the same way you had when you were an angel. I didn’t want to assume anything.”

Cas shook his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you just ask me?” 

Dean felt a blush creep steadily up his neck, pinking his cheeks. “I was scared,” he admitted. 

Cas smiled and let their foreheads knock gently together. Dean felt Cas’s fingers thread through the short hairs at the back of his neck and then they were kissing again. “You have nothing to be afraid of, Dean.” 

Cas started to back them up the stairs and down the hall to the master bedroom.Their mouths hardly left each other’s and before Dean knew it, Cas was shoving him down onto the bed, a possessive growl escaping his mouth as he crawled on top of Dean. Their mouths crashed together again and Dean grinned into the kiss.

“Wanted this for so long,” Cas breathed against Dean’s neck as he sucked a mark onto his skin. 

“Me too,” Dean gasped just as Cas’s hands slipped under his shirt, rucking it up and exposing Dean’s stomach. Cas placed open mouthed kisses to every inch of skin he could see and when Cas let a hand brush over one of Dean’s nipples, he let out a whimper. 

“You like that?” Cas asked, he sounded so wrecked and just hearing him like that made Dean’s already very interested dick swell in his jeans. 

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean moaned as Cas pinched one nipple and then the other, rolling the quickly hardening nubs between his thumb and forefinger. 

“I put you together once,” Cas said, voice husky and heavy with arousal, “and now I’m going to take you apart.” 

“Jesus,” Dean gasped. “Cas, you can’t just say shit like that, fuck.” 

Dean looked down to see Cas grinning, a wide smile that touched his eyes and Dean felt himself melt at the love that shone there, mixing with desire. 

“Please tell me if anything I do is unwanted,” Cas said as his fingers reached for Dean’s belt buckle. 

Dean tipped his head back against the pillows. “Cas, nothing you do will be unwanted.”

“Dean, consent is important, so you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement, a command, and if that doesn’t turn Dean on more. 

“Yes, I’ll tell you,” Dean bit out through a sharp breath just as Cas unzipped his pants and pulled Dean free in one fluid motion. “Fuck, Cas, where’d you learn that?” 

“I’ve had desires this past month, Dean. I had to do something to sate them.”

Dean’s fists tightened in the sheets at the implication of those words and he spared a look down at his cock, which was standing at attention, so full it was starting to hurt. “Fuck, Cas, please touch me.” 

With a smirk, Cas obliged. He wrapped his fist around the base of Dean’s cock and then slowly, tantalizingly, he began to move his hand up and down. Dean practically saw stars when Cas thumbed over his slit, and then, suddenly, Cas’s hand was gone and Dean was blinking open an eye to see blue hovering over him as hands tugged at his shirt. 

Dean caught on quickly and helped Cas pull his shirt over his head. “You too,” Dean said as he pulled the corners of Cas’s shirt up. 

Once Cas was shirtless, Dean couldn’t stop himself from letting his hands wander, brushing over taught muscle and perfectly tanned skin. Cas didn’t give him long to explore before he was stealing Dean’s attention with another kiss. Dean could hear Cas working open his own belt and then the sound of a zipper filled the air and Dean had to break the kiss so he could look. 

Cas sat back on his heels, fisting himself and letting out a throaty moan. Precome spilled from Cas’s tip and Dean licked his lips, swallowing hard. Cas was slightly above average and just looking at his cock made Dean’s own erection scream from neglect. 

“Cas,” Dean whined. 

Cas opened his eyes, shimmering blue meeting heated green. “Yes, Dean?” 

“Fuck me,” Dean begged. It sounded so desperate, but Dean was beyond the realm of care. 

“Do you have lube?” Cas asked. 

Dean nodded as he reached his hand to stroke himself, needing friction. “Bag, on the floor.” 

Cas climbed off Dean, located the bag, and then was back on the bed in record time. Cas knocked Dean’s hand away from his cock and Dean groaned. “I’ll be doing the touching here,” he said, and Dean knew it was a promise. 

The pop of the lube bottle opening made Dean shiver in anticipation, and when Cas squirted a generous amount onto his hand, Dean’s heart skipped a beat. This was happening, this was really happening. Cas was about to fuck him. 

The first feather light touch of Cas’s finger against his hole made Dean swallow in want. Cas toyed with him for a moment before pushing inside up to his first knuckle. Dean bit down on his lip at the sensation, but once Cas started to move, he was lost to bliss. When Cas added another finger Dean moaned as Cas’s digits speared him, hooking and scissoring as they opened him up. One finger hit his prostate and Dean yelped in pleasure and tried to reach for his aching cock, but Cas used his free hand to hold Dean’s hands above his head, keeping him pinned as he continued to fuck him with his fingers. 

“You really are so beautiful,” Cas murmured as he bent to place a kiss to Dean’s stomach. 

“Shut up,” Dean muttered as his cheeks betrayed his blush. 

Cas paused in his ministrations and Dean looked down at him in confusion. “Do you want my cock?” Cas asked. 

“Fuck, yes,” Dean gasped. 

“Then you should get used to accepting compliments or that won’t be happening.” 

“Fuck, Cas.”

Cas didn’t say anymore, he just continued to scissor Dean open until finally, he pulled his fingers out and Dean pouted at the loss, only to feel the head of Cas’s dick pressing against his hole moments later. Cas lined himself up and then pushed inside, causing Dean to squeeze his eyes shut at the sudden fullness. The initial pain gave way to pleasure as Cas sunk deeper, fully seating himself, balls up against Dean’s ass. 

“Move, Cas, please,” Dean begged. 

Cas didn’t wait to be told twice, and soon he was pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in. The bed creaked in protest of their activities and Dean reached back to hold onto the headboard, just as Cas wrapped a hand around Dean’s weeping cock. Dean let out a noise that at any other time he’d be embarrassed of, but he was too blissed out from the feeling of Cas’s longer fingers stroking him that he didn’t have a mind to care. 

Cas began to pick up the pace and when he located Dean’s prostate, the thrusts came faster and quicker. A thumb over Dean’s slit and another hit to his prostate had Dean coming with a shout. Seconds later, Cas was coming too, spilling inside Dean with a grunt that had Dean’s spent dick twitching in interest again. 

“Fuck,” Dean laughed as he blinked down at Cas. “That was amazing.” 

“I agree,” Cas said with a chuckle of his own as he flopped down beside Dean, making the bed bounce. 

Neither of them had the mental capacity to move, so Dean just snuggled closer to Cas and let his eyes fall shut, content against the warmth of Cas’s bare chest. 

Dean woke with a groan as sunlight pierced through the windows that he’d forgotten to pull the shades over. He looked over at Cas, half expecting him not to be there and the amazing sex they had was all a dream, but Cas was there, hair wild and dark against the white pillows. 

He looked so peaceful and Dean didn’t have the heart to wake him up. So, he quietly slipped out from under the covers and made his way into the bathroom. With the door shut, he turned on the shower and then took a look at himself in the mirror. His own hair was rumpled and flat on one side from where he’d slept on it, he looked the very definition of ‘fucked’, with a dazed look still in his eyes and dried cum sticking to his chest. But Dean had never felt better, only a little sore, and happier than he’d been in a long time. 

Once the mirror started to fog a bit, Dean stepped under the warm shower spray and tipped his head back to let the water wash over him. He was so absorbed in the warmth spreading over him, that he didn’t hear the bathroom door open, so when Cas stepped into the shower, Dean yelped in surprise. 

“Good morning,” Cas said, voice deep and blue eyes sharp with something that Dean could only describe as predatory. 

“Uh, hey Cas,” Dean gulped as Cas suddenly surged forward, pinning him against the wall and smashing their lips together. 

When Cas leaned forward, brushing their cocks together, Dean moaned into his mouth. Between Cas providing some friction, and the hot water, Dean was almost all the way hard before they even stopped kissing. 

“Let me get that for you,” Cas offered. And before Dean could even blink, Cas had sunk to his knees. 

Dean’s brain just barely caught up with what Cas planned to do a second before he leaned forward and took Dean in his mouth. Dean gasped and his head tipped back against the wall as Cas began to move. 

“Fuck,” Dean hissed in pleasure when Cas’s tongue swirled around his slit. 

Cas grinned around Dean’s cock and Dean couldn’t help but fist his hands in Cas’s hair. Cas took him deeper and as he sucked and licked, Dean felt himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm. 

“Cas, ‘m gonna,” he moaned in warning. 

But Cas didn’t make a move to pull off, instead he sucked harder and with one quick flick of his tongue over the tip of Dean’s cock, Dean was coming down Cas’s throat. Cas swallowed it all, and when he finally popped off, licking his lips and grinning, Dean couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss, he could taste himself on Cas’s tongue. 

“That was one hell of a blow job,” Dean said against Cas’s lips. 

Cas beamed in pride. “I’m glad you liked it.” 

Dean looked down between them to see that Cas was still pretty much fully hard. “Do you want me to-” 

Cas shook his head. “No, we don’t have time.” 

Dean stared at Cas, confused. “Do we have other plans or something?” 

“I think I have a good idea of who our witch is.”

“Yeah? Who?” 

“Jenny.” 

“Jenny?” Dean echoed skeptically. “The lady across the street?” 

Cas nodded as he reached for the shampoo bottle and then began to massage the shampoo into Dean’s hair. “Yes. I found and burned a hex bag that was hidden downstairs under the kitchen sink.” 

“And Jenny put it there?” Dean asked as he shut his eyes so the soap didn’t get in. 

“I saw her when she thought no one was looking.” 

Dean risked cracking open an eye. “And you’re only telling  _ now _ ?” 

Cas shrugged as he maneuvered Dean under the water to rinse out the shampoo. “You were busy entertaining our guests, I didn’t want to bother you.” 

“We should search the rest of the house,” Dean said. 

“We should,” Cas agreed. 

Once they’d both rinsed off and had pulled on some clothes, they headed downstairs to search for more hex bags. Dean found one crammed behind the coffee maker and quickly burned it. They continued their search but came up empty for any others, and counted themselves lucky that Jenny hadn’t started a spell yet. 

“So, should we pay our neighbor a visit?” 

Cas smiled and held out his hand for Dean to take. “Let’s.” 

It was early, but somehow Dean knew that Jenny would be up. They paused at the Impala so Dean could grab his gun filled with witch killing bullets, but then they headed across the street and up the neatly kept walkway that led to Jenny’s front door. 

The second Jenny opened the door, Dean knew Cas had been right. Her face twisted into a look of hatred and annoyance and Dean flashed her a smile. 

“Hey, neighbor, mind if we come in?” 

Jenny backed away as Dean pulled his gun free from his belt. “I knew you were hunters,” she spat. “I could smell it on you.” 

“Yeah, and you’re a witch.” 

Jenny sneered at them as Dean cocked his gun. “You really think a gun will hurt me? What kind of hunters are you?” 

“Oh sweetheart, it’s not just a gun.” 

“It’s filled with witch killing bullets,” Cas helpfully supplied. 

Dean didn’t wait around for Jenny to try and cast a spell, he just lined up his shot and fired. Jenny dropped to the floor, blood welling from her chest and Dean exchanged a glance with Cas before they both moved to inspect the house. 

Jenny must have tried to hex them a few minutes ago because a bowl filled with what Dean could only assume was rabbits' blood (witches seemed to have an affinity for the use of blood that belonged to small furry (helpless) animals), and there were a few needles floating in the blood. 

They didn’t linger for too long, and soon they were back over at their house packing their bags. Dean gave Sam a quick phone call to inform him that the case had been solved and they were heading back to the bunker and Sam told them he’d cancel the rent. 

The drive back to the bunker was very different from the drive to the small neighborhood they’d just left behind. This time, the silence that stretched between them was comfortable, their hands were often intertwined between them as Dean drove one handed, and when Dean played his music Cas attempted to sing along. 

Once, while Dean was exiting the highway, Cas took it upon himself to reach over and begin to carefully slip his fingers under Dean’s waistband. 

“Cas!” Dean protested as he swerved on the road, just barely managing to keep them from going off road. 

Cas blinked innocently at Dean. “What?” 

“Listen, buddy, I want nothing more than to receive a hand job, but not while I’m  _ driving _ . Crashing Baby is not on my to-do list today.” 

“What  _ is  _ on your to-do list?” Cas asked as he looked up at Dean through long charcoal colored lashes. 

“Fuck,” Dean hissed as his cock began to fill in his pants. 

Five minutes later, Dean had pulled over and they were making out, with Cas on top of Dean, pressing the heel of his palm into Dean’s growing erection, and ten minutes later, they were both coming. Dean had to reach into the glove compartment to pull out some napkins to clean up their mess, and luckily, they didn’t get any on the upholstery which let Dean breathe a sigh of relief. 

Both sated post-orgasam, Dean continued their drive home and when they finally reached the bunker and entered hand in hand, Sam gave them a knowing smile. 

“Finally figured your shit out, huh?” Sam asked. 

“Shut up,” Dean snapped, but he was smiling. 

“Congrats,” Eileen said from where she sat beside Sam. 

“Thank you,” Cas replied with a smile. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Dean said as he tugged Cas down the corridor to his room. 

“Sam set us up on purpose, didn’t he?” Cas asked once Dean had shut the door. 

“Yup. The little bitch.” 

“I had wondered why we couldn’t have taken care of the vampires.” 

“Forget the vampires,” Dean said as he pulled Cas close. “I’m gonna have a word with Sam about meddling, but right now I don’t care. Right now I just want you.” 

“Dean,” Cas said with a soft sigh. “You’ve had me since the moment I first saw you in hell.” 

“Yeah?” Dean asked as he brought their lips within an inch of each other. 

Cas nodded and his hand landed on Dean’s hip. “I was, and will always, be yours.” 

And then they were kissing and Dean let Cas back them up to the bed, where Cas carefully lowered them down. Cas was his. And Dean was Cas’s. 

“I love you,” Dean blurted when Cas broke their kiss so he could help Dean from his shirt. 

“And I love you,” Cas replied. 

Their lips met again and Dean’s hips canted upwards, seeking friction. Cas reached between them to undo Dean’s pants and then his own and as Cas took Dean in his hand, Dean couldn’t help but think that maybe Cas had been wrong on that fateful day when the empty had come and taken him away. 

Because from where Dean was sitting, happiness  _ was  _ in the having. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, come bother me on [Tumblr](https://trenchcoatimpala.tumblr.com/)  
> 


End file.
